Spence University
by LunaEquus
Summary: College students in present day. Need I say more? Essentially plotless drabble. It's a laugh, I promise.
1. For Inspiration

**Warning: Semi OOC Drabble . You have been warned!**

"Gemma."

"What?"

"Gemma, I – I have to tell you something."

"What do you need to tell me, Kartik?"

Kartik puts an arm around me; I suspect the gesture is more to support himself than be affectionate. "It's a secret. I have to tell you a secret, Gemma. There is a secret. That I must say. To you."

I crane my neck to get a good look at him. "You're drunk, Kartik."

His eyes grow wide. "How'd you know?"

"It's pretty obvious you've had too much to drink."

"Shh! Don't let anyone know! It's a secret!"

"Okay, Kartik. I promise I won't tell anyone. Just don't drink any more."

He nuzzles my neck and traces a finger around the lip of the red Solo cup in my hand. "Gemma," he breathes, his voice sweet with liquor. "You look really pretty tonight."

"Thank you."

His lips move on my neck. "Let's go upstairs," he mumbles.

I sigh. "You're drunk, Kartik."

"I know. Isn't it wonderful?"

"You know full well that as soon as we go up to your room, you're going to pass out on your bed fully clothed and I'm going to have to stay up and make sure you don't die during the night."

He shakes his head, knocking his skull into my chin.

"Ow!" I yelp, rubbing my jaw.

"Gemma. I am not going to pass out. I am going to work on my paper. Let me tell you how I'm going to work on my paper."

"Which one?"

"Anthropology of the Western World. It is written in the stars that I will finish it tonight. I promise. Let's just go upstairs and I will sit down and finish it."

"What do you need me for then, if you're just going to do homework?"

He stops and appears to think it over. "I need you to be naked. For inspiration."

I stare at him. "I need a new boyfriend," I muse, downing the rest of the mixed punch.

Kartik grabs my hand and wraps it around his neck. "You need to come upstairs with me."

Something dawns on my tipsy brain. "Kartik, you don't even live here."

"So? My roommate's friend had sex in our room."

I gape at him. "Not in _your _bed, I hope!"

"I washed the sheets!"

I wrinkle my nose and stand up, my body feeling light as a feather. "Let's just go back to my apartment. I don't think Fee will be back for a few hours. What time is it?"

I flick open my cell phone, ignoring the "No Service" line that is notorious in the basements of frat houses. The time reads 1:47 am. She said she'd be back around 3:30 – 4.

"Shit," I grab his hand. "Well let's be quick about it then."

We push through the dense crowd of dancing bodies. Kartik shakes his head to the music, oblivious to the actual tempo. We exit the frat and are immediately hit with cool air, soothing after the sweaty heat inside the dank basement.

"Gemma?" Kartik turns to me, giving the pathetic doe-eyed sad face he's perfected. The same one he executes every time he wants something from me, mainly sex.

"Yes?"

"You're not really going to make me do my paper, are you?"

"No. Not tonight."

He gives me his most dazzling smile, another asset he's perfected to use against me. I kiss him full on the lips. "But we're waking up at 9 and you're going to sit at my computer and do your paper."

"Nine?!!"

"Yes, and it's your own fault if you have a hangover."

"But Gemma, even _you _won't get up at 9, and you barely had anything to drink!"

"Fine. We'll wake up at 10 then."

He scoffs at me. "_I'll_ wake up at 10. _You_ won't stir until 12 at the earliest. Mark my words!"

"Yes, but you're still going to do your paper."

"I will. When you wake up."

"Ah, I see you're getting your wit back. You must be sobering up."

He considers this. "I might be. Don't you and Felicity have any more vodka left?"

I slap him on his arm. "Are you saying you have to be trashed to want to sleep with me?"

He gives me a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "No, I'm just saying you're more adventurous when you're drunk."

I toss my hair over my shoulder. "I can be adventurous when I'm sober."

"Will you let me tie you up?"

"Not when you've had this much to drink!"

He scowls. "Why not?"

"Because you might pass out and leave me tied up and naked for all to see!"

"Will you let me tie you up when I'm sober?"

"Maybe. If you're a good boy."

He squeezes my hand excitedly. "I'll be very good, Gemma!"

I smile, trying to keep my composure. The prospect of the next few hours is beginning to affect my body. Kartik's fun when he's so uninhibited. I just hope he doesn't pass out before we start, or worse, while we're in the middle of the deed. I wouldn't put it past him, as he's done it before.

My hands shake as I try to pass my ID through the card reader of my apartment's building. Kartik presses against my back. "You're turned on, aren't you?" he breathes into my ear. He squeezes my bum.

"KARTIK!" I jump as one of Kartik's friends from the third floor shouts out the window.

"HEY!" he yells back.

"ARE YOU GONNA GET LAID?"

"YEAH!" Kartik gives him a thumbs-up.

"Kartik! Shut up!" I hiss, my face flushing madly.

"Sorry Gemma!" He turns back to his friend. "DON'T TELL ANYONE! GEMMA DOESN'T WANT ANYONE TO KNOW!"

I open the door and pull him inside, my face roughly the color of the Solo cup I drank from earlier. I hide my face as we walk past the RA sitting at the front desk. Rather, _I _walk past the desk. Kartik walks _into _it.

"Easy there, killer," the RA says.

"I'm terribly sorry," I say, mortified, as I take Kartik's arm to steady him.

"Put him to bed," the RA yells after us as we make our way towards the stairs.

"Oh she will!"

"Kartik, just - shut – up!"

We manage to climb the stairs uneventfully to the suite Felicity, Ann, Ann's roommate Jill, and I share. The entire way to my room, Kartik hums a familiar sounding song.

"Are you humming the AIDS song from Team America: World Police?"

He nods. "My own version."

"And what would that be?"

Kartik flops onto my bed. "Gonna get laid! Laid, laid, laid!" he sings, kicking his feet for effect.

"You're a special one, aren't you?" I kiss him once he settles his legs. "I'll be right back - just going to go freshen up a bit."

"I'll be waiting!"

I call Felicity the moment I shut the bathroom door.

"Hello?"

"Hi Fee, it's Gemma," I say, running a brush through my hair.

"Oh, hey! What's up?"

"Not much. Listen. When are you planning on coming back?"

"Probably soon, why? You need the room for the night?"

"Would you mind terribly?" I study my reflection and unbutton my shirt a few holes, revealing a bit of my new lavender and peach lace bra.

"Not at all. Have fun. Use protection. I gotta go." I can hear a man's voice in the background calling her name.

"Right. Thanks!" I set my phone down on the sink and reach for my toothbrush. I spend a few more minutes making sure I'm properly groomed and fragrant, then I return to my room. Kartik is, as planned, passed out on my bed. I let out a frustrated sigh, disappointed that I had worked myself up for nothing.

I undress and slip into a clean pair of pajamas and set the alarm on my phone for 9 am, just to piss him off. I grab a bottle of water from the kitchen and place it on my side table for Kartik, should he wake up thirsty, before I crawl into bed between him and the wall. He breathes softly and looks sweet, untroubled. I smooth back a few strands of hair from his forehead and kiss him. He stirs slightly, instinctively reaching for me. I settle into his warmth and let sleep pull me under.

Oh well, there's always morning.

**I felt the intense need to apply college life to Gemma and Kartik's relationship. This fic won't just be about them though. I don't think it's terribly OOC, because I can actually see them interacting like this, if they were college students in the year 2007, that is. As always, any and all feedback is loved.**

**My last night in the dorms! Next year I have an apartment! Oh happy days!**

**You know you want Kartik to be trashed,  
LunaEquus**

**(PS I got a new Neopets account. God I'm a loser. Why do I share this with you? Because I got the best username before anyone else did. Rakshana! Woo hoo!)  
**


	2. He Tasted Terrible

**Disclaimer: I'm actually Libba Bray's fictional character Gemma Doyle. That's why I always write myself getting together with Kartik. Because I'd really like to jump his adorable, yet forbidden, bones. I would sooo jump his bones in a heartbeat. If it was socially acceptable, of course. Screw that. I'm hot and bothered. Let me at him. Rawr.**

"Ugh, some people are disgusting!"

"So sue me if I like cheese on my fries!" Kartik says, not looking up from the nacho cheese dispenser.

"No, not you, although that stuff will kill you. I'm talking about _them,_" I whisper, pointing discreetly to a couple making out in front of the soda machine.

"Huh?" He looks up. "Oh yeah, that's classy. Oh shit!" He pulls his cheese-covered hand away from his plate of fries. "That cheese is hot!"

I hand him a napkin. "Here."

He stares at me while licking the cheese off his hand. "What do I need a napkin for?"

I roll my eyes. "Who's classy now?"

"I am."

"Let's just sit down."

We find a table next to a window overlooking the courtyard. I mix dressing into my salad and watch in bemusement as Kartik decides what to eat first – pizza or Philly cheese steak. He shrugs and reaches for the pizza.

"I'm surprised you haven't gained 50 pounds by now, the way you eat," I remark.

"It's because I'm so fit," he responds with his mouth full.

"Oh yes, playing Guitar Hero and Halo II is really a workout."

He cocks his head at me. "Why so bitter today, Gem?"

I stab my salad with my fork. "No particular reason. Just one of those days where you wake up on the wrong side of the bed."

He smiles. "Hey, I told you I'd let you sleep on my other side, but you said you didn't want to fall off the bed in the middle of the night."

I sigh. "That's not what I mean, Kartik."

He reaches over and tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. "I'm just trying to make you smile."

I take his hand and kiss his knuckles. "Do you remember our first kiss?" I ask, averting the conversation from my mood.

"Of course I remember. We were in sixth grade and played spin-the-bottle at Felicity's birthday party. You were my first kiss," he smiles sweetly.

"You told everyone I gave you cooties, and you started calling me 'Germa'."

He laughs. "I was only teasing! I thought I was pretty clever."

"You got our whole class to call me it! I went home crying after school!"

"You did?" Kartik's face is a mixture of bemusement and sympathy. "I did it for attention; I always had a crush on you."

"Even when you dated Sarah Thompson in eighth grade?"

"That was hardly dating. We went to the movies once and I wouldn't even let her hold my hand. I wanted to ask you, but everyone knew you liked what's-his-face." Kartik rips open a packet of ketchup and spreads it over his cheese steak.

"You've really always liked me?" I ask, leaning forward to rest on my elbows. My salad sits next to my purse, forgotten.

He nods, his eyes wide and his mouth full. He swallows and takes a gulp of my pink lemonade. "Why do you think I kept dating your friends all through high school? I wanted to find out more about you. That's why I kept getting dumped. Girls don't like it when all you do is ask about their friend," he says. "That, and because I didn't want to sleep with them. Or compliment them much. Am I a bad person for that?"

I laugh. "Bad for them, good for me! If you wanted to get to know me, why didn't you just ask?"

"Because I thought you never forgave me for the whole 'Germa' thing. But hey, I finally got the guts to ask you out junior year."

"And the rest is history," I finish.

"Yeah. You're my girl," he murmurs, holding a fry to my lips. I open my mouth and accept it. He watches me for a moment, then his expression turns devious.

"Gemma," he whispers, so that I must lean forward to hear him. His eyes flicker down to where my v-necked shirt reveals my cleavage. "Do you remember the first time we had sex?"

A giggle escapes my lips. "Last year over Christmas break. Your parents were on a business trip and mine thought I was sleeping over at Ann's. We were lying in your bed watching TV, and –"

"I wanted to watch "A Christmas Story" but you wanted to watch "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer". So I let you. And then you told me that you used to be afraid of the yeti thing when you were a little girl. And I thought you were so cute for telling me that." He smiles at the memory.

"It was snowing outside and your bed was so warm," I muse. "We were both virgins and had no idea what we were doing."

"But it was fun learning!" Kartik interjects.

"That it was… And it's gotten a lot better since then."

Kartik grins at me. "Now I get horny every time I see Rudolph. _That's _a hard thing to explain."

I blush. "I can't believe we are having this conversation in public!"

He shrugs. "Change of subject needed?"

"Yeah. Let's continue it later though, okay?" I glance at him coyly. He takes the bait.

"Of course," he replies suggestively. He points a cheese-covered fry at my salad. "Eat!" he barks.

I oblige and take a bite. We chew in silence for a moment. "I miss my horse," I say, resting my chin in my hand.

Kartik smirks. "So we go from riding me to riding your horse. Nice."

I slap him playfully. "Don't you miss him too?"

"I miss watching you ride him. It's a turn-on."

I gape at him. "Does everything turn you on? He's a _horse_!"

Several people turn to look at us. "Thanks, Gem, now everyone thinks I rape animals," he says sourly.

"He doesn't rape animals," I say to the people watching us. "Interspecies erotica is _not _his bag."

"Gee, thanks."

"So how does that turn you on?"

He leans back and places his hands behind his head. "I don't know. It's something about the way you're so _dominant, _and you look so damn _elegant_! And that posting trot you do is pretty hot. And when you stick your bum out – geez! Is it hot in here, or is it just you?"

I stick my tongue out at him. "Well, the barn manager called me and said that Gatsby misses me and has been acting up. He threw the girl I'd asked to exercise him."

Kartik shakes his head. "Gatsby. What a stupid name for a horse."

"The Great Gatsby is a great name for a great horse, thank you very much!"

"The book sucked. If they made a movie, it would suck."

I glare at him. "So I suppose you have a better name for him then?"

Kartik taps his chin thoughtfully. "Butt Plug."

I roll my eyes. "Because that is so much better."

"Better than me visualizing you having sex with some prick in a top hat every time they announce your name in the show ring. 'Now entering the ring - Number 355, Gemma Doyle riding The Great Gatsby'. No. You should in fact rename your horse after me. Then there will be no confusion." He grins, obviously proud of himself.

"You're absolutely ridiculous."

"Yes, but Gemma, picture it. 'Oh, you're looking for Gemma? She's just riding Kartik. Haha, the horse, you sick pervert!'"

I stare at him, at a loss for words.

"Here's another instance then. Say you're in a bad mood because you had a bad ride. You say…"

I sigh. "I really sucked on Kartik today."

"Great, and then you say…"

"He tasted terrible."

"Yes! No, what? No! You're supposed to say 'the horse, you pervert!'" He frowns at the smile growing on my face. "Gemma, you're mean!"

"You insulted my horse, therefore you deserve it."

"Germa."

"Sticks and stones, my dear."

Kartik laughs, then stands up and picks up our trays. "I'm going to get ice cream before we leave. Do you want any?"

"Strawberry with whipped cream, thanks," I say, catching his messenger bag before it slides off the chair next to him.

"Be right back."

I lean back with a contented sigh. Such banter between us always lightens my mood. Others see our relationship as something silly and trivial, but they couldn't be farther from the truth. I can see myself being with Kartik for the rest of my life.

I absently finger the amulet around my neck and stare out the window. What would it be like to marry him? Our kids would be cute, I'm sure.

"Hey there, gorgeous, pondering the meaning of life?" Kartik sets my ice cream before me.

"Thank you," I murmur, taking the spoon he offers me. "I was just thinking of what our kids would look like."

"They'd look like us. Only they'd be perfect."

"Of course. They're ours, after all." I spoon some ice cream into my mouth. "Do you think…?" I trail off, unsure if my question will freak him out.

"Think what?"

"Never mind, it's not important."

"Think what?"

"Nothing!"

"I really want to know what I may or may not think, Gemma."

"I was just wondering if you ever think we'll get married," I say, my face flushing.

He looks at me surprised. "I always wonder that."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you'd be the perfect wife! You let me play video games and rub my back when I have to write long papers. And I figure you were my first kiss and my first romp, you might as well be my first wife too."

"I should hope I'd be your only wife."

Kartik grins sheepishly. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah," I say slowly. "I do."

"So," Kartik says, standing up. "Do you want to go ride Kartik?"

I stand up as well. "We've been through this already. I'm not renaming Gatsby after you."

Kartik slings his arm around my shoulder. "I wasn't referring to the horse."

**Goodness gracious. Great balls of fire. Do you all hate me for making Gemma an equestrienne? A lot of people here seem to like horses, so consider it a gift to you all. Unless you all hate the idea, which would make me sad. And to answer a question - some of this is based on personal experience, some is based on a friend's experience, and some is completely made up. It's up to you to figure out what's real, and what's not. But since apparently I am Libba Bray's fictional character Gemma Doyle, it may all be real. If I lived in this time. Which I don't. Which makes it pretty hard to write this, doesn't it. I've always been told that I'm clever...**

**Home for the summer,  
LunaEquus**


	3. Shut up, you whore

**Hey guess what? I am actually Libba Bray's fictional character Kartik. I always write in Gemma's POV so I can imagine what it would be like to have boobs. And sometimes I write in my own POV so that you readers can appreciate my manliness and see how I am a complete stud muffin who captures the hearts of all females, specifically Gemma. Who has boobs. This is one heck of a disclaimer, isn't it?**

"So what are your plans for the summer, guys?" I ask, lying sideways across an armchair, my bare legs dangling over the side.

"I don't know, baby sit?" Ann replies. "I might take some acting classes for fun."

"Cool," I say. "What about you, Fee?"

"I plan on sunbathing all day at the beach. With nothing but my iPod, Prada sunglasses, and a hot boy to keep me slathered in sunscreen. What about you, Gem? Besides all the hot, sweaty sex you'll have with Kartik all day, every day."

"Ew," I say, wrinkling my nose. "That's what air-conditioning is for. Unlike this apartment. What the hell? Weren't they supposed to turn on the air weeks ago?"

"They want us to suffer," Ann says, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers. Fee doesn't look up from the magazine in her lap.

"Tell me about it! I have 4 finals this week. I've been studying like crazy." She turns the pages with vigor.

"Oh?" I say. "I didn't know you took a class on European fashion. What's that – French Vogue 101?"

"Hah hah, Gemma, you're oh so funny."

"Yes well, don't complain. I have a 10 page paper due Monday for English Lit. Have I started it? Nope."

"I don't have finals," Ann says.

I pick a lock of my hair and stretch it upwards. It's longer than my arm can reach. "Shut up, Miss Major in Theater Arts Minor in Singing. If you get laryngitis, you'll be fired," I say teasingly.

"Yeah," Fee interjects. "Leave the bitching to those of us with real majors."

"Whatever made you pick nursing as your major, Fee?" Ann asks.

Felicity sighs. "I don't know. You think I'll actually ever become a nurse? I have an 8-digit trust fund. The only nursing I'll ever do is to my hangovers after long nights of partying with the beautiful people."

"And what are we, ogres?" I ask, swinging my legs over the back of the chair and staring at my friends upside down.

"Yes."

I throw a pillow at her. "I don't know. This summer's going to be busy. Horse shows and the like. I might take a summer class. Too many English classes in one semester kinda kills you. I like to write though."

"How come you didn't major in horsie subjects?" Fee asks, turning a page noisily.

"I thought about it. But honestly? Do I want to work in a barn for the rest of my life? No. It's a hobby, not a career. At least for me. I want to write books. Maybe I'll be rich someday."

"Well if you marry Kartik, you will be. I mean, if he ever becomes a doctor like he says."

"Let's not talk about marriage yet, Fee."

"Well if you do, I want to be Maid of Honor."

"What about me?" Ann whines.

"I'm not even engaged," I remind her.

Felicity taps her chin. "Make him become a plastic surgeon. Then we can get free Botox for the rest of our life."

"I'm surprised he chose pre-med as a major. He never expressed interest in medicine before," I muse.

"He's Indian. He's either going to do pre-med or engineering."

"Wow, Ann. Way to be racist," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Sorry," she says sheepishly.

"Hey Gemma, does Kartik hate me?"

"No," I say, turning to look at Felicity through a curtain of red hair. "Why do you say that?"

She shrugs and crosses her legs. "We've been in the same bio lecture all semester and he's never sat with me."

"Maybe because all you do is talk on your cell phone during lectures and he actually wants to learn something?"

"I've learned things in that class!" she exclaims.

"Sudoku doesn't count, Fee."

"Hey -," she begins.

"Neither does perfecting a French manicure," I say with finality.

"Which reminds me," Ann says walking over to the refrigerator. "Can you redo my nails, Fee?"

"Only if you make brownies again."

"Ugh," I say, interrupting. "As if this place needs any added heat!"

"So that's why you've kicked your hot boyfriend out!" Ann jokes. I shoot her a look. "Sorry," she says, looking away.

"Don't apologize, Ann," Felicity says, glaring at me. "Gemma's boyfriend _is _hot. So where's he been anyway?" she asks nonchalantly.

My stomach turns angrily, as it always does when I suspect a girl is out to steal my boyfriend. Though Fee is my friend and I know Kartik isn't attracted to her, I still have the odd urge to bear my teeth and growl at her.

"Kartik has been studying. A lot." I think of him, probably passed out in the library, using his biochem book as a pillow, and my heart softens. "I feel so bad that he has so much to study for. But I mean it's sort of his fault. He chose the classes."

"Isn't he minoring in something totally random?" Ann asks, her head blocked by an open cabinet.

"Yeah," I reply. "World languages. He likes it better than his pre-med classes, so maybe he'll switch."

"World languages, hm?" Felicity fingers a few strands of her blonde hair. "Maybe I'll tutor him in French."

"Felicity!" I yelp. "What is _that _supposed to mean?!"

She laughs lightly. "I was just kidding, Gemma! Honestly, you think I'd try to steal him from you? I'd have done it by now!"

"Oh that's reassuring," I mumbled, the already uncomfortable room growing stifling with the blood rushing to my face. All of a sudden Gwen Stefani's voice rings metallically throughout the room. From my position, I can just see the top of my phone on the table and an ancient wad of gum underneath it. I reach for my phone, my shirt falling to reveal a few inches of my stomach.

"Hey babe," I say into the phone, knowing that Kartik is on the other end of the line.

"Hey, I'm just walking back from the library."

I smile to myself. "Did you have a nice nap?" I ask.

"It was okay. I accidentally fell asleep on my spiral notebook, and well, you know how it goes."

I laugh, my head hurting from being upside down for so long. I make the effort to sit up.

"So do you want to hang out?" he asks. "I figure my brain can't absorb any more for today."

"Sure, come over. Just to warn you though, our air conditioning still hasn't been turned on yet."

"Eh, how bad could it be?"

I glance out the open window and see his familiar figure nearing the building, dragging his book bag behind him. "I can see you; I'll leave the door open. Hurry up and get up here!" I snap the phone shut before he can respond. "Well he's in for an unpleasant surprise," I say to no one in particular.

"And it's just about to get worse!" Ann chirps while turning on the oven.

"Ugh," I say for the umpteenth time as I put my long hair up into a messy bun. I pick at one of the straps of my teal tank top, which is practically stuck to my body. "I'm absolutely disgusting," I remark.

"No you're not," Kartik says, bursting through the door. "But this room is! Jesus, it's a fucking _sauna _in here! Gross, Gemma, why didn't you tell me?"

"I did tell you. You said 'well how bad could it be?'"

"Oh." He drops his bag and kicks off his shoes. "Gemma," he moans dramatically, lying across my lap in the chair. "I don't want to be a doctor anymore!"

"Aww," I say, running my fingers through his hair and scratching his scalp. "When did you ever even _want _to be a doctor?" I'm trying to be sympathetic, but his warm weight is the last thing I want at the moment.

"When my parents sat me down and told me they're only going to pay for college if I study to be a doctor." He suddenly sits up quickly and hops off my lap.

"Where are you going?" I ask, despite the fact he's heading straight for the kitchen.

"There's something I need to do," he says, opening the freezer door and sticking his head in. "Seriously, Gemma? Can we go somewhere else? It's cooler outside." He reemerges with a frozen bottle of Grey Goose. "And can we take this?" he asks, holding it to his forehead.

Felicity looks up from her magazine. "Can you not get sweat all over my vodka _please_?"

Kartik stares at her for a moment. "Shut up, you whore," he says, returning the bottle to the freezer.

"Excuse me?!" she screeches. Ann and I try our humanly best to keep from laughing hysterically. Kartik perches on the arm of my chair.

"Don't act all surprised. You've been a whore ever since 4th grade when you offered to lift up your skirt to any boy that voted for you for class representative."

"Yes, but that's _politics_!" she sputters in response.

"It's called _prostitution._ But hey, whatever floats your boat. And for the record, I voted for your opponent anyway," Kartik says with a grin. Felicity throws her magazine at him. He ducks it sharply and slides into my lap again. "Hello, gorgeous," he says, looking up at me. "I can see up your nose, you know."

I cover my nose and kick him off me. "I will blame your abusive actions on the heat, dearest," he says, standing up. "Let's go to my apartment. Our air conditioning is turned on."

"Is it?!" I ask excitedly.

"It is!" he responds, matching my tone.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?"

"Get your stuff. Spend the night. We can play Guitar Hero and you can pretend you're my groupie and throw your bra -,"

He suddenly becomes aware of Ann and Felicity listening intently.

"- into the laundry basket so that we can do laundry and study all night," he finishes without skipping a beat.

"Mm hmm," Felicity eyes us in mock suspicion from her place on the couch.

I laugh. "Be right back," I say, heading towards the room Felicity and I share. I quickly throw a change of clothes and a toothbrush into my drawstring bag. "Ready!" I chirp, eager to be someplace cold.

Kartik hovers near the refrigerator with his book bag in hand. I look at him questioningly. 'Distract her!' he mouths, pointing to Felicity.

"Hey Fee, before I forget, how should I do my hair tomorrow night?" I ask, kneeling beside her on the couch.

Her face lights up as it does whenever anyone asks her for beauty advice. "It looks really pretty when you straighten it. I have some hair serum you could use, because it's supposed to be really humid."

Behind her, Kartik deftly retrieves the Grey Goose from the freezer and zips it into his book bag. Ann pretends not to notice.

"Thanks a bunch, I think I'll do that," I say, standing up. I slip my feet into flip flops while Kartik attempts to put his sneakers back on without bending over to use his hands.

"Bye guys, try not to die overnight in here," I say halfway out the door.

"Have fun doing laundry!" Ann yells.

"We will!" Kartik yells back, letting the door slam. He turns to me as we climb the stairs to his floor. "Gemma, your roommates are annoying."

"I know," I sigh. "I grew up with them too."

"Too bad you can't room with me next year."

I roll my eyes. "Because _you're _the perfect roommate, right? You leave your dirty clothes everywhere and don't put the cap back on the toothpaste. Not to mention you're a sloppy drunk and all you want to do after 10 pm is have sex. Hmm," I say, tapping my chin thoughtfully. "Maybe you'd be the perfect roommate after all."

He grins widely. "Don't you know it!"

**This whole fic is the most fun to write. I will write many more chapters. I promise. And the reviews? You guys rock! Seriously, if I really was Kartik (like, if I had some gender/identity/sexuality confusion issue) I'd totally write you all love letters and pin them to your beds with little blades. But unfortunately, I am actually a straight, white girl that has absolutely no affiliation with the brotherhood of the Rakshana. (but then again, neither does Kartik!)**

**My sense of humor is odd,  
LunaEquus**

**PS I am dying my hair Atomic Turquoise this Thursday. Not all of it, just underneath. I want to look like a mermaid. **

**And I just got a really wrong image of Kartik with a head full of foil, letting Gemma dye his hair. Hmm. I may have to write that...**


	4. Piper and Shade

**Serious disclaimer, for once. I am not Libba Bray, or in any way affiliated with Manic Panic or Hot Topic. I hope no one takes offense at any of the emo jokes. It's Kartik's fault, not mine.**

"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" Kartik asks, sitting sullenly in front of the bathroom sink.

"Because I'm a very persuasive woman," I reply.

"More like a very stubborn _little girl_," he mumbles. I tear off a square of foil right next to his head. He jumps at the noise.

"That will be enough of that. May you remind yourself who has the artillery at the moment? You wouldn't want me to _accidentally _slip, now would you?" I say with my sweetest voice. "Let's get down to business now. First," I reach over him and tug his shirt over his head. "We won't be needing this," I murmur in his ear. I see his reflection in the mirror smirk.

"And I'll be getting my just rewards afterwards for putting up with this, correct?"

I pull a rubber glove on with a snap. "Perhaps," I say trailing my gloved palm over his taut chest. I allow him one kiss, then I pull away with a devious smile. "Unless you end up looking like a clown, of course. I won't sleep with you if you look ridiculous."

He scowls at me. "Then you'd better not mess up, Gemma!"

I smile innocently in return. This unsettles him.

"I mean it! You'd suffer too!"

I laugh. "Kartik, darling, I don't necessarily need you for anything. I have other, ahem, _means _to go about things. And if I remember correctly, it was you who bought me said means for my birthday last year."

His mouth hangs open in mock surprise. "I bought you it as a joke!"

"Yes, well, the joke's on you now, isn't it?"

I allow him to seethe in silence as I comb his wet hair. I carefully separate a neat section and begin my work. "You'd better not move much, or else I'll mess up," I say, dipping my index and middle fingers into the red dye.

"I'm bored," is all he says in response.

"How can you be bored already? We've only just begun!"

"I don't know. Can't you turn on the radio or take your shirt off or something?"

"What?!"

"A little scenery isn't too much to ask for, is it? Especially now that I won't be getting any for the next two weeks. Or however long it'll take for this crap to wash out," he says grumpily.

"I was only joking, Kartik! You won't look ridiculous and you'll get some soon enough."

"Yes, well you shouldn't touch on something so close to my heart," he says dramatically.

I sigh and dip my fingers into the dye again. "The last time I checked, your heart was nowhere near your-,"

I'm stunned into silence as Kartik reaches around and grabs my breast. He grins up at me maniacally, like a child that thinks they look attractive when they show all their teeth.

"What did you do that for?!"

"Love you," is all he says.

"Well aren't you the most random thing today," I muse quietly. He kicks the cabinet doors underneath the sink.

"I'm still bored."

"You're also immature."

"I am most certainly not immature, Gemma," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. I grab a piece of foil and carefully fold it over the section of hair I just finished working on. I set to work on another. I dunk my fingers a few times, watching the thick dye slowly drip off my fingers.

"Kind of looks like blood, doesn't it?" I ask. Kartik shudders.

"You look like you've been performing surgery on me."

I laugh softly. "So, have you decided what sort of doctor you want to be?"

He is silent for a moment. "Yeah, about that… Gemma, I'm changing my major."

"Oh?" I raise my eyebrows at him in the mirror. "Do your parents know about this?" I know how much they want for Kartik to follow in his older brother Amar's footsteps.

"Er, no. They'll kill me if I do."

"So how do you anticipate telling them?" I ask, carefully spreading dye on his glossy black hair.

He shifts uncomfortably and avoids my gaze in the mirror. "Well, that's the fly in the ointment." I raise my brows at the odd metaphor. "I'm _not _gonna tell them. I was sort of hoping _you _would?"

"You're joking, I hope."

"No."

"I won't do it."

"Why not? Gemma, they won't mind if you tell them! They love you! My mother even told me that if we ever broke up, she and my father were going to disown me and adopt you! I mean, she was kidding, but still!"

He goes to turn and look at me, making me drop the hair I was saturating. "Kartik, watch it! You're going to make me fuck up!"

"Sorry," he says softly, turning back around. He folds his arms over his chest in resignation.

I gaze at him for a moment, trying to place his expression. "You're really upset, aren't you?"

"No," he says stubbornly. I sigh and place another piece of foil into his hair. I kneel next to him and rest my elbows on his thigh.

"What is it that you want to switch to?" I ask. A drop of water falls from a few strands of hair onto his collarbone and I'm hit with the sudden urge to ravish him. I've forgotten how lucky I am to have a boyfriend like him. He's so…delicious looking.

"Gem?"

"Huh?" I blink a few times, clearing away a fantasy involving myself taking his jeans off with my teeth, something I've always wanted to try, but never have.

"You were looking as if you wanted to eat me." He has a sly look on his face, as if he wouldn't have minded if I tried.

"Oh, it's nothing. What did you say you want to major in?" I ask, a bit flustered from being caught fantasizing about him.

"I didn't say. I'm actually not quite sure what I want to do with my life." He reaches out a hand and strokes my cheek. "Except that I always want to be with you."

I smile and kiss his palm. "So a pre-med major is completely off the mark?"

He lets his hand drop back to his lap and I stand to resume dying his hair. "Amar succeeds in that field. Even if I continued, I could never live up to the standards I've been placed against. It's not my thing. I want to do something I'm good at."

"Well, I think your best plan of action would be to think of something you really want to do and _then _talk to your parents. You'll be fine. Just don't lose your temper."

A glob of red dye accidentally falls from between my fingers and lands on Kartik's back. He gasps. "Jesus that's cold!"

"Sorry!" I try to wipe it off, succeeding only in spreading it further. I wet a washcloth and scrub at it. No luck.

"Is it off?" he asks.

"Erm, not quite," I respond. "It seems that the dye works quicker than I thought."

"So I have red skin now?"

"Essentially…yes."

"Well fix it!"

"I'm trying!" I pull off my rubber gloves and grab the hand soap from the sink. The dye still stays. "I have an idea," I muse as I push his legs out of the way and rummage under the sink. I emerge with a spray bottle of Scrubbing Bubbles. "If this doesn't work, nothing will," I say, aiming the bottle at him like a gun.

He furrows his brows. "Won't that poison me or something?"

"Let's hope not." I spray white foam across his angry looking red skin and resume agitating it even more. Finally, the dye comes off. "It worked!"

"It stings," he mumbles.

"Now I know why parents give their kids candy to shut up in public. I have half a mind to shove a Twinkie in your mouth."

"Woah," Kartik says, holding up a hand in protest. "Hold on a minute. Those are phallic symbols and I am in no way interested in having them shoved into my mouth."

"You're so full of yourself. I've seen you eat Twinkies two at a time, so shut up and let me finish in peace."

Kartik grabs the bottle of hair dye from the sink and examines it intently. "Vampire Red. Well that's original. So is my hair going to be bright red? Or the deep blood red hues of my tortured soul?"

How he manages to say that with a straight face is beyond me. "Okay, Mr. Emo, the dye will give your hair a highlight effect, since it's not bleached. So deep blood red hues of your tortured soul it is. Does that please you?"

Kartik flicks some hair over his left eye and develops a sullen look. "Nothing pleases me. The world is cruel. Yet beautiful. Beautiful like a rose bleeding on the virgin snow in December. And cruel like the tightness of my size 6 junior girl's jeans riding up in the crotch."

I cover my mouth with the back of my hand to prevent from laughing. My shoulders shake with the effort. Kartik breaks out into a grin. "Honestly, Gemma, I'm actually quite emo. The Manic Panic is only the first step. Soon enough, I'll be listening to Evanescence, wearing 4 gauge earrings, loitering at the arcade at the mall, and wearing your clothing. Artfully ripped and pinned, of course."

That sets me off. I double over laughing. "The – thing – is," I try to say while simultaneously laughing and gasping for breath. "I can – actually – PICTURE – you doing that!"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "It is only my destiny, after all." He looks into the mirror and sizes up his reflection, complete with hair in his eyes and foil sticking out. "My god, I look like a prick," he exhales.

"Just a few more highlights and we'll call it a day, okay?" I wipe the tears from my eyes and start a new section. "Then you have to let it set and we'll wash it out."

"And I will look sexy and we can have a good romp."

"You already look sexy," I say, kissing his cheek.

"Of course I do," he responds smugly.

"Especially with foil sticking up at odd angles."

"I deliver a clear reception to TVs with no cable. Therefore I am sexy. And beneficial to society."

"So why don't you tell your parents that you're dropping out of school to fulfill your dream as a life-sized TV antenna?"

Kartik shakes his head. "No, my dream is to become _emo_, Gemma. The antenna thing will be a hobby. And I'll accumulate so many piercings and chained wallets that I'll be that more receptive to radio waves."

"You're absolutely ridiculous, Kartik," I say, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "I love you."

"Even if I'm potentially emo?"

"Yes. I'll love you even if you become emo, provided you don't artfully rip my Seven jeans. They cost more than your future 4 gauge earrings ever will."

"Well hot damn! We can go on dates to Hot Topic. It'll be oh so romantic, Gemma!"

"But wait, we can't be Gemma and Kartik anymore! We'll need new names, to express our…undying sorrow."

"You read my mind, dearest," Kartik says. "From this point forward, we shall be…Piper and Shade."

I nod in agreement. Kartik dips his finger into the red dye and spreads it across his wrist, then mine. "From this point forward, we shall be lame and utterly laughed at individuals. But that's what is important. That we're unique. And individual. Which is why we, and everyone else like us, shop at Hot Topic and buy the same clothes, artfully torn and pinned, of course, and use the same layouts for our Myspaces."

I toss my hair over my shoulder. "Okay, the joke is old now."

He laughs. "Can I dye your hair?"

"It's already red, Kartik."

He pulls me onto his lap and kisses me with vigor. "My name," he says gruffly. "is Shade."

**I don't know about you, but I need a boyfriend like Kartik/Shade RIGHT NOW. Grrr. And if any boys read this, you probably are thinking the same about Gemma/Piper.**

**Next chapter will hopefully have more sweet drunk action, because it's REALLY fun to write. And because all proper college students are drunk at least once a week.**

**Spence! At the Disco,  
LunaEquus**

**PS: Ahahahahahahahahahaha!!! That was clever!**


	5. Sunscreen Really Does Work

**How Kartik and Gemma first got together...**

"I _love _senior cut day!" I say, flipping my sunglasses back onto my nose. Next to me, Felicity does the same.

"It hardly matters that we're juniors, right?" She gives me a dazzling smile. There's the Fee I love, happy and relaxed, not bitchy and high strung, the way she is most of the time.

"Details, details. All that matters is that it's a beautiful day and we're here at the beach," I say, taking a sip of my peach lemonade.

"And of course that we're the two hottest girls in our class, wearing designer bikinis and sunglasses. Old money has its perks."

"That it does," I say, fingering the long strings holding up my halter bikini top. The sun is at its peak, but the sea breeze is cool and inviting, and the view is incredible. I sigh with happiness. "Nice scenery, right?" I ask, nodding my head at a few guys from our class playing Frisbee at the water's edge.

Felicity peers over her sunglasses at the boys, their skin glistening with sweat, water, and sunscreen. "Mmm, and to think we grew up with some of them. Who knew the dorks that used to pick their noses in class would turn out to be so hot?"

"Kartik never picked his nose," I say quickly, immediately regretting bringing up his name.

Felicity laughs in surprise. "You like Kartik!"

"Not really," I say, blushing. "I'm just saying he's over there and he never picked his nose in class."

Fee's blue eyes follow Kartik's form, dashing about in the sand with his friends. "He has gotten quite gorgeous."

"I know," I say wistfully. "He's beautiful."

She pushes her sunglasses back into place. "He's also checking you out."

"What?" I shriek, immediately turning to look.

"Shh!" Felicity says, grabbing my arm. "Play it cool Gemma! Don't let him know you're into him."

"But I want to see if he's looking at me," I whine. She sighs in frustration.

"That's what these are for," she says, pointing at her shades. "Sit normal, okay?"

I sit back into my lounge chair and watch the boys playing. "He's not looking!" I hiss.

"Well he's not going to be obvious about it! Watch him; he'll glance over at you. In the meantime, invite him to look," she says.

"What do you mean?"

"Sunscreen." She hands me the coconut scented sunscreen we were sharing.

I giggle. "Fee, you're so bad!"

She smiles. "No, you are. Make him want you."

I squirt some lotion into my hand. "How can I make this look sexy?" I ask, staring at the glob of white in my hand.

"How can you _not_? Just put it on normally. I'll coach you through it."

"Okay," I say, rubbing sunscreen onto my shoulders.

"Right, now arch your back; stick your chest out."

I try my best to twist my body like Fee told me, but it's near impossible to stick my chest out and reach over my shoulder at the same time. She seems to notice my dilemma.

"Right, enough shoulders. Do your chest."

I spread the lotion over my collarbones and the tops of my breasts. "Now," Felicity says. "Without moving your head, look up." I let my eyes drift to the boys. Sure enough Kartik has stopped playing; seeming to not even notice he was playing in the first place. The Frisbee sails right past him and lands in the sand. His friends yell at him in protest. I smile widely at Felicity.

"Told you," she says smugly. "Keep it up; maybe he'll come over here."

I rub more lotion into my legs, taking great care to stretch them out to their length. Once again Kartik seems bewitched. I suddenly feel very giddy. I sit back and admire his physique – broad shoulders, lean muscles, long legs. All a shining honey brown; he looks as if he'd taste sweet. I wouldn't mind finding out.

"Ohh," I say, rubbing my legs together. "I want him!"

"That's the spirit! We need to get you laid."

"I never said I wanted to have sex with him!"

"Yes, but you know you want to. Tonight just may be your chance."

"What do you mean?"

Felicity gives me an exasperated look. "We're all staying in two hotel rooms right next to each other. There are plenty of _beverages_ to be had, you know. Who knows what can happen? He's obviously into you."

I shift in my seat. "I don't want my first time to be while I'm drunk though. It sort of defeats the purpose doesn't it?"

She shrugs. "I guess it depends on how you look at it." She reads her magazine quietly for a moment, then looks up again. "Just promise me one thing, Gemma. Whatever happens, don't be so shy. Flirt with him. Please."

I toss my beach waved hair over my shoulder. "Promise," I say, feeling a surge of confidence. I catch Kartik's eye and do the most audacious thing. I blow him a kiss, much to his surprise. He looks back at his friends and saunters toward me. My heartbeat immediately quickens.

"Don't spaz out, Gemma," Felicity warns.

"Hey," Kartik says, flopping in the sand next to me.

"Hi," I chirp.

"Hello," Fee says without looking up. Kartik gives me a warm smile that turns my insides to mush. I suddenly feel like laughing, dancing, and throwing up all at once. When did he get so heart wrenchingly handsome?

"What's up?" I ask, twirling a tendril of hair between my fingers.

"Nothing," he says, looking back at his friends again. I see his eyes quickly pause on my legs. I bend them, showing off my toned calves. "Just got bored of playing, that's all. Having fun?"

I shrug in a way that gives me the illusion of having cleavage, if only for a moment. "Can't complain," I say nonchalantly with a smile.

"You look bored. Hang out with me."

I glance at Felicity. She is still absorbed in her magazine, but I see her give a subtle nod. I turn back to Kartik, who has an anxious look on his face. "Sure," I say.

"Cool," he says, jumping up and brushing sand from his swim trunks. He extends a hand to me like a gentleman.

"Thank you," I say, taking it. I pull my white eyelet sundress over my head, making sure to wiggle my hips as the loose fabric fall over my body. "What do you want to do?"

He runs his fingers through his glossy black hair. "Take a walk with me?"

I nod, feeling excited. Boys don't ask you to take walks for nothing, right?

"Gemma, I've known you for forever it seems," he says once we've walked out of earshot of our friends.

"Well we _have _been classmates since fourth grade."

"Yeah," he says with a sweet smile. "That's when you moved here." He looks up to the horizon and I study his profile. Straight nose, full lips, nice jaw. I love the way his hair falls into his eyes, as if he's purposely trying to look sexy and alluring, even though he's not. One thing I've known about him is that he's incredibly adorable, without trying. He doesn't know how attractive he is, which makes it that much sexier.

"Why don't we hang out more often, Gemma?" He sits on one of the rocks at the deserted end of the beach. "I mean, we should," he adds shyly.

I blush and push my sunglasses up into my hair. "I wasn't aware that you wanted to," I say, taking a seat next to him. "You never were interested in hanging out with my group of my friends."

He tears his eyes from the ocean and fixes them on mine. "That's just it, Gemma. It's not your friends I like, it's you. You're not like those girls. You don't put on a show to try to catch someone's attention."

"No, of course not," I lie, cursing myself for listening to Felicity.

"You're really sincere," he says quietly. "I like that."

I stare at my knees, unsure of how to react. No guy has ever been so straightforward with me.

"I'm coming on too strong, aren't I?" Kartik asks.

"Not at all," I say. "No one's ever said anything like that to me. The last guy that came on to me told me he would show me his if I showed him mine. I kicked him in the shin and ran home crying." I smile weakly at Kartik, feeling like a loser. "I mean, I've kissed guys before, but it's always just happened, you know? No one's ever tried to ask me out. And now I'm just babbling and you probably weren't doing anything of the sort of what I've just explained. I'm sorry, I feel like an idiot. I should just go," I say, going to hop off the rock.

Kartik's hand catches mine and pulls me back. "Stay," he says, smiling widely. "Do you know why no one's asked you out before?"

"Because I'm a loser?"

He laughs. "Do you really believe that?"

"Honestly, yes. All my friends have had wonderful relationships while I play the single card. I'm beginning to think I have cooties."

"You know you don't have cooties, despite my claims in elementary school." He nudges my knee with his own playfully. "No one has asked you out because they're intimidated by you."

"What?" I ask, shocked. "I'm one of the nicest people I know!"

Kartik runs his hand through his hair again. "That's just it. You're beautiful, smart, and nice. A guy's total dream and nightmare. All my friends wanted to ask you out, but they were afraid they'd get rejected."

"You think I'm beautiful?"

"You are," he says. My hand flies to my mouth as if to hide the smile forming there.

"How can you be so confident?" I ask.

He sighs. "I assure you, I'm a complete mess on the inside."

I slide a bit closer to him, smelling the sunblock and salt water on his skin. "Let's not beat around the bush then. Kartik, I -,"

He cuts me off with a kiss full on the mouth. The initial shock wears off quickly as the scent of him overwhelms my senses, drawing out a yearning I never knew I had. My arms encircle his neck loosely, one of my hands tangling in his hair. One of his hands finds the back of my neck, angling my head to kiss me deeper. Kissing him is like magic, everything feeling perfect and natural, as if I had been kissing him my whole life.

We pull away simultaneously. Kartik grins sheepishly, his face flushed, though not nearly as much as mine. "You were saying?" he says breathlessly.

However, my brain has seemed to cease all functioning. "Wow," I breathe. "We _should _hang out more often." Kartik laughs, looking beautiful as he does so. I can hardly keep my hands off of him.

This time it is me that initiates the kiss, letting my hands linger on the sides of his waist, feeling the warmth of his soft skin.

"Gemma," he says a few moments later. "We could be good together." His eyes sparkle in the sunlight.

"We already are."

**Aww cute! Little juniors, they are! **

** Thought I'd update this one, seeing as how I've completely abandoned this fic for High and Dry. I needed something light and fun to write as well, since I just saw Saw 3 today. Let's just say I don't think I'll get much sleep tonight. Every time I close my eyes I see people getting their ribs ripped apart and their heads twisted around. Not to mention pig carcasses getting chopped up and spewed all over me. Good thing I never really like pork anyway. O.O**

**I keep petting my ankles to reassure them I'll never saw them off,  
LunaEquus**

**Felicity makes me laugh in this fic. She is oh so based off of Gossip Girl. Gemma's supposed to be rich too, but not extravagantly. And Kartik isn't rich per se, he's just spoiled and doesn't know it. Like, he got a BMW for his birthday and his mom still does his laundry. So he drives Gemma everywhere because she got a horse instead of a car. Which, as anyone should know, is way more expensive than owning a car. Upwards of a thousand bucks a month, to be specific, at least at my barn. Which is craptastic, if you ask me.  
**


	6. Lick it, slam it, suck it

**To clarify - this is plotless. I jump around in time period a lot. Last chapter they were in high school, this one is college again. You're not missing anything!**

"Guys, check me out – I'm Sanjaya!" Kartik crashes into the room, followed closely by his best friend Jonathan. He makes a spectacle of himself, standing on the coffee table and pointing to his hair, which is sticking straight up in a mock ponyhawk, certainly a la Sanjaya Malakar.

"Boo! You suck!" Ann screeches gleefully, throwing an empty Solo cup at him. "I'm way more talented than you!" Kartik shakes his butt in her direction. I raise my eyes at Felicity across the room. She looks up from the game of beer pong she's been watching in the hopes of hooking up with the winner, and shrugs, giving me an unapologetic look as if to say "don't look at me; _you _chose him."

I'm sitting on the floor in Kartik's expansive basement, the perfect setting to celebrate what he refers to as the celebration of the 19th anniversary of my birth, but has more or less turned into an excuse for all our old friends to hang out and get drunk. I'm technically supposed to be playing a particularly nasty game of Asshole, but I'm rather huffy that my boyfriend has abandoned me to act like an idiot.

"People may be surprised to know… that I can actually hula!" Kartik says in a high-pitched voice, wobbling his head so that his ponyhawk moves. He spies me and hops off the table, sending half-filled cups everywhere. "My love," he proclaims, enveloping me in a bear hug. "Loveyou. Iloveyou, I do."

One of his ex-flings from 9th grade, a rather pathetic girl named Stella, glares daggers at me. It is common knowledge that Kartik was never much into her and that she has been obsessing over him since they broke up. I'd feel sorry for her if she wasn't such a bitch. Kartik, however, is completely oblivious to her affections, or at least he pretends to be. He plants a wet kiss on my mouth, teasing my tongue clumsily with his own.

"_Some people_ should learn that public displays of affection are the trashiest thing ever," Stella whines to anyone that will (pretend to) listen to her. Kartik squints at her, confused. I suspect a lot of deliberation going on in his undoubtedly drunk brain.

"Who invited you?" he asks. She ignores him.

"Anyway, it's my birthday and if I want to be a bit promiscuous with my boyfriend, I will," I say, kissing Kartik furiously. I'll be damned if that bitch thinks she can tell me what to do in my own boyfriend's house.

"Gemma," he says breathlessly, his eyes bright and shining. "I need to borrow your hairbrush."

"May I ask why?" I gesture to his ridiculous hairdo. "It's not as if you can brush it now."

"I need a microphone. Jon's going to play the song. I am going to sing it."

"What song?"

He huffs and rolls his eyes. "The Van Halen song on Guitar Hero. The one Sanjaya sang to make the girl cry."

"Well sorry, but my hairbrush is in my purse which is in your room. You'll have to find something else to be your microphone."

He frowns at me, probably thinking of a way to make me got get my brush anyway.

"Gemma, why are you so sober? It's your party; you should be the trash – most trashed. Not trashiest. That's what we are not, but Stella is. I think. I'm confused?"

I kiss him on his nose. "You're confused, darling. Go sing your song and I promise I'll take five shots of tequila if Jon can get through the song on hard." I laugh inwardly, knowing that they're both so drunk they'll probably hold the guitars upside down and fail at 13, like I did the first time I ever played.

"But Gemma, I need _your _hairbrush. Not anyone else's. _Yours_. Please?"

"Why should I walk up two flights of stairs to your room?"

"Because I don't think I can. I might fall and break my neck and you'll be sorry because I won't be able to give you birthday sex because I'll be dead. But then again, there's always rigor mortis, right? You dirty devil!" He slaps my shoulder in an extremely effeminate way. Kartik always has the tendency to act a little gay when he gets drunk, which explains the Sanjaya getup, but gets weird when he starts play flirting with other guys. At least I don't have to worry about him hooking up with another girl though.

I sigh and stand up in resignation. "There's a dear," he says, smacking my butt.

"Shut up," I call before running up the stairs to the kitchen. I have no intentions of retrieving my hairbrush for the sole purpose of using it as a microphone, but I need a break from the loud and drunkenness. I pour myself a glass of water and sit in the dark kitchen, tapping my fingernails on the granite countertop.

Kartik's parents are both upper class workaholic types, and they're away often on business trips. I often muse how funny it is that in a family of doctors, lawyers, and successful businessmen, there is Kartik, the black sheep, who has a less conventional way of doing things. He's undoubtedly the smartest guy I know, but he is without trying, and he knows it. He can excel in probably any field of study, but he doesn't know what he wants. Last week he swore to me he was going to be a meteorologist, and this week he decided that he should try to get on Project Runway, and I quote, "because he can sew better than that bitch Angela".

The sound of footsteps in the dining room makes my blood run cold. I freeze, knowing that everyone is downstairs. Have his parents come back already? They're gonna flip if they have.

I peer into the dining room and let out a sigh of relief. "Oh Amar, it's just you," I say, holding my hand to my heart. He grins and walks into the kitchen, still in his doctor's scrubs.

"Thought it was my parents, huh?"

"Yup, I thought we were in trouble."

"Well that's why I've come. They called and asked me to check up on my wittle baby brother," Amar says in a baby's voice. I laugh.

"So you're going to bust the party?"

"No, I'm going to have a beer and watch my brother act the fool."

I set my empty glass in the dishwasher, which is nearly filled because I have a lazy boyfriend that can't be bothered with chores. "Well, you're in for a treat, because he is quite drunk."

"Is he slapping guys' asses yet?" He notes my surprised look. "Gemma dear, I have been getting my brother drunk for years. I know the drill. Trust me; we're all thankful you came along. We were beginning to think he really was into guys, but don't worry, he adores you."

I smile weakly. "Thanks, I think."

"So why are you up here by yourself anyway?"

"Well Kartik thinks I'm getting my hairbrush so he can use it as a microphone, because apparently that makes perfect sense in his brain at the moment."

Amar gives me an odd look. "And why would he need a microphone?"

"He's pretending to be Sanjaya Malakar from American Idol."

"It's worse than I thought," he says solemnly, emulating the stereotypical doctor prognosis voice. I giggle; Amar's pretty funny in a careless sort of way. I secretly envy him in a way; for he can spend hours and hours in a depressing atmosphere and still come out of it rather chipper. In fact, I sort of have a crush on him, for he is quite hot, even if he is about ten years older than me. I'd never tell Kartik though. He's compared to his older brother enough as it is.

"Well I'm actually going to get going. Go tell my brother to behave himself. I'd rather not witness this…incident."

"Will do," I say, hovering at the top of the stairs.

"Oh and Gemma, promise me something."

"Sure, what is it?"

"Take tons of pictures and do not delete them," Amar says with a glint in his eye.

I give him an equally wicked smile. "Of course."

He makes a gesture as if to usher me down the stairs. "Now shoo, birthday girl! I'll assure our mummy and daddy that Kartik hasn't burned down the house."

"Thanks, Amar," I say with a grin. "See you later."

I return to the party and am immediately bombarded by Kartik, who has seemed to completely forgotten about the hairbrush.

"Gemma! Gemma, guess what?" he says, grasping my arm and pulling me to the annexed TV room.

"Jesus! What is it, Kartik?"

"As it would turn out, the influence of alcohol has actually improved our skills on Guitar Hero," he says, struggling to sound like he's sober. His friend Jon stands nearby, grinning like a fool with the guitar controller around his neck.

"Good for you," I say, reading the score on the screen with dread.

"You promised, Gemma. We both 5 starred on hard, and now you have to do five shots of tequila."

"Shit." I stamp my foot slightly. "Kartik, that will kill me."

"No," he says simply, producing a large bottle of Jose Cuervo. "It will make you pleasantly tipsy. Uplifted, if you will."

I gape at him. Where _does _he come up with these things? To my right, Jon has a revelation. It's as if the man has seen God, the way his face has lit up.

"Dude. Salt and limes. Let's make it authentic for the birthday girl."

Kartik's face lights up too. "Brilliant! We bought limes, right?"

"Yeah! I forgot! Limes and salt, right here." Jon brings out a bag of cut limes and a salt shaker.

"You're all mad," I say, backing out of the room.

"Felicity, Ann! She's resisting!" Kartik yells. Suddenly I'm pinned to the floor by my two best friends, shrieking as my skirt rides up dangerously high.

"We do this because we love you," Felicity says, pulling me into a kneeling position. Kartik kneels before me and rubs a lime on the back of his hand before covering it with salt.

"Gem, you know the drill," he says. "Lick it," he gestures to the salt on his hand. "Slam it," he holds up the shot glass of tequila. "And suck it," he says, holding up the lime with a lewd smile. As Ann and Fee have my arms pinned, I am forced to use Kartik's hands, not that I mind. Oh wait, yes I do mind.

"Okay," I say, taking a few deep breaths. "Bring it on."

In a swift motion, I lick Kartik's salty hand, tilt my head back for the shot, and bite into the lime. "Ack!" I cough and sputter, my throat burning with the intensity of the liquor and the sourness of the lime juice.

"Another!" Kartik says, clapping his hands. He sets everything up again. By now, a small crowd of our friends have gathered to watch as I'm force-fed the hard stuff.

"This is humiliating," I whine.

"This is hilarious," Kartik says. "Lick it, slam it, suck it!"

The process repeats. This time however, I don't recover as quickly. My eyes tear at the strength of the tequila and my stomach churns furiously. I wrench my hand from Ann in order to stifle a gag. "No more, please!"

"Nonsense! You've done more before," Felicity insists.

"Almost halfway there, Gemma," Jon says.

"Fine! One more! That's it, though," I say, licking salt from my lips. Kartik eyes me in a very sexy way as he licks a drop of lime juice from his thumb. Ohh I want to jump his bones right now!

This time I nearly spit it right out again. With great effort, I manage to swallow the mess and close my eyes until it finally settles. Aside from my burning stomach, my body feels like it's floating. I recall my tendency to prance instead of walk when I'm drunk. The prospect of doing it here right now is too funny to bear. My smile grows wide, my eyes bright.

Kartik looks beautiful, even with a ponyhawk. I get the urge to sit on him like a carousel horse, for that is surely what he sort of looks like.

"My girlfriend takes shots like a champ," he says, looping an arm around my waist. I smile wider and lean into him, not quite sure where my weight really is resting.

"Kartik," I breathe so that he must lean in to hear me. "Your boy friend, no, you're not gay – friend that is a guy, Jonathan. I think he likes Ann!"

"Why do you say that?" He whispers back.

"I don't know!" I say, breaking into hysterical laughter.

"You are a crazy drunk!"

"I am not the one that looks like a horse."

He stops to consider. "Yes, but you _ride_ them." He looks at me meaningfully. I stare at him, confused. Jon picks up and starts playing more Guitar Hero, drawing Kartik's attention away from me. I stay nuzzled into him, my thoughts wandering like a plastic bag in the wind.

"What a fantastic idea!" I say four minutes later.

**Lick it, slam it, suck it. Fantastically disgusting. Everyone should try it once in their life though. Kudos to Gemma for taking 3 in a row. Ick. **

**I had to put Sanjaya in there. I HAD TO! Don't judge me!**

**I'm getting a new tattoo tomorrow (hoofprints on my foot),  
LunaEquus**


	7. Couple's Therapy and Facebook don't mix

**Random update. Don't worry I am still working on High and Dry!**

"Thanks again for helping me out with this, guys," Felicity says, opening up a notebook. She had changed her major on a whim to psychology once she realized nursing entailed dealing with blood and throw up. Unfortunately, she doesn't take this major any more seriously than nursing, and put off a project until last minute. As I am such an incredible, charitable, selfless girl, I agreed to be a test patient for her mock therapy session. But last minute she decided couple's therapy would be much more interesting, on top of meaning less prying and more bullshit for her paper.

And thus, Kartik has been roped into joining me for some "therapy", not that we need it really, but I thought it'd be funny. He and I sit on my bed, facing Felicity, who is on her own bed across the room. She had dressed for the part, complete with pencil skirt and black rimmed glasses. I don't know why she put forth the effort, for I'm still in pajamas and Kartik hasn't changed since he last showered which was yesterday.

"This is so lame," Kartik says, picking at his toes.

"Stop whining," I say.

"But Gemma, we don't _need _couple's therapy!"

"It's fake! Fake therapy," Felicity chirps, scribbling something on her notebook. Kartik blinks stupidly at her.

"I don't get it."

"You know…like you play fake guitar." Felicity grins at me.

"Now, now, let's not go ganging up on the male here," he mumbles. "_You're _supposed to be unbiased. You're going to make me out to be some nutcase, aren't you?"

Felicity smiles and writes again in her book. "Let's get started." She flips through a textbook next to her. "Okay, it says here I should ask you what your plans for your future together are."

"Okay," I say. Felicity wavers.

"Okay. So…what are they?"

"Oh! Um…let's speak hypothetically. Ideally, I'd like to marry Kartik and have two children, but not one right after the other. There should be an age difference, because I'd go nuts with two toddlers running around. And I don't want to have them right away, because I want to travel right after we're married, which will hopefully be either the winter or spring of 2012."

"Um, Gemma?" Felicity cuts in, but I pay her no mind.

"I figure a winter wedding would be nice with all the fresh snow and red roses, maybe a nighttime wedding would be lovely, you know, with the moonlight sparkling and fires roaring. But then I'm really leaning towards early spring, with a color scheme in maybe a sage green and pale pink, with English roses and all that lovely ivy. Oh, now wouldn't that be perfect, Kartik?"

Kartik stares at me, his mouth hanging open. "What is it?" I ask, frowning.

"You have this all planned out, don't you?" he asks.

"Yes, of course. Don't you?"

"Gemma, I couldn't care less about roaring fires and shades of sage."

"I sense some tension here," Felicity pipes up, grinning her head off. I ignore her.

"You mean you haven't thought about our future at all?"

Kartik shrugs. "Sure I have, but I've thought about different things, like…"

"Like what? Sex? Is that all you ever think about? Once you buy the truck the ice cream's all for free? Nice, Kartik, really nice," I say hotly. Felicity scribbles away furiously, enjoying every second. Kartik's eyes bug out like a goldfish's and he looks slightly amazed.

"Wow, Gemma, not at all. I was thinking in terms of living expenses and houses and such."

"Liar."

"No, it's true! I have it all figured out. If we budget ourselves just so, do you know neither of us would ever have to work?" I fold my arms across my chest. "It's true! Inheritances, that sort of thing. We'd just have to live on a budget, but I thought about it and I think it could work. Or rather, _not _work, eh Gemma?" he says, nudging me playfully in the ribs. I gaze at him disdainfully.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Okay, imagine that -,"

"Hey, wait!" Felicity cuts Kartik off, examining her notes carefully. "Um Gemma, let's try not to take a hostile tone. Feelings are best expressed when calm and collected."

"Okay," I say, rolling my eyes. Kartik looks at Felicity.

"Can I talk now?" She nods. "Okay, so let's say we limit the amount we spend on food. I can personally live on McDonald's snack wraps, and they're only $1.39. That's pretty cheap, Gemma," he says, looking as though he put a lot of thought into it. I let out a snort of laughter.

"Yes, but you eat at least four at a time. Things add up, dearest."

"Yes, but it's still cheap. And it's not as if _you _eat a lot anyway! What did you eat for lunch today?"

I blush, knowing that my eating habits are terrible. "I don't remember."

"You ate six wintergreen life savers and some American cheese. Hardly a feast."

"So what you're saying is that _I _should go hungry while _you _eat half a dozen snack wraps a day. So kind and loving you are to your future wife, Kartik!"

"That is not the point I was trying to make."

"Yes, but the point was made. You know what? Your little plan _will _work! I'll live comfortably without working because at this rate you'll be dead at age 40 from high levels of cholesterol and I will live the rest of my life as an emaciated widow with as many wintergreen life savers as I want."

I turn my head so abruptly that my ponytail smacks him in the face. "Stop laughing," I say to Felicity. "You're a terrible therapist and you fail at life."

"Well at least I can afford more than life savers," she says as evenly as possible. Kartik bursts out laughing. "Okay, things are getting a bit out of hand. Let's address the problem."

"Fine by me," I say just as Kartik says, "There is no problem."

Felicity raises her eyebrows. "This may take awhile."

Forty minutes later, we are still in the same position, only Kartik is in tears and explaining his life's story with many a hand gestures.

"And I loved that dog," he says tearfully. "But Dad wouldn't let me keep him. He wouldn't. Oh, Fernando! I miss him so much!"

Felicity catches my eye. '_Fernando_?' she mouths. I suppress a snort of laughter.

Kartik lets out a long, shaky breath. "And that's why I want to name our firstborn son Fernando."

"Over my dead body," I say.

He glares at me. "You are so insensitive, Gemma." I roll my eyes as Felicity scribbles into her notebook.

Ten minutes more of this passes until Felicity glances at her Chanel watch and closes her book. "I think we're done for today," she says formally. "You are both nutcases and should seek professional help. Good day to you." She stands up and walks out of the room, slamming the door shut.

"How rude," I mumble, leaning down onto my pillows so that Kartik sits at my feet. He rests his eyes on my legs and I flip on the TV.

"Sage isn't such a bad color," he says apologetically.

"I still don't like the name Fernando. We can name our dog that, if we ever get one, but no son of mine shall sport that name."

"Fair enough," he says, smiling.

"I'm sorry," I say, moving the remote controller from my stomach so that Kartik can lay his head there. "We don't need therapy."

"Of course not," Kartik says, his voice muffled. "It's all Felicity's fault." He sits up and hops off my bed. "I'm using your computer."

"Whatevs," I say, turning my attention to "How Clean is Your House?" I zone out for a bit, watching the old ladies with their marabou rubber gloves cleaning dirty things.

I must have dozed off, for when I next look up, Kartik is leaning back in my desk chair, drinking what looks suspiciously like the margarita mix I made last night. I also notice he is signed into my Facebook account.

"Kartik, what are you doing on my Facebook?"

"Stalking your friends. What else?"

"No you're not; you're messing with my profile."

"Hardly."

"What are you doing?!!!"

"Nothing, I swear it -,"

I push him out of the way and click on my profile. What I see nearly has me in tears. "Gemma _Nose _Doyle?" I turn on Kartik with a look that could kill most. Unfortunately, he is quite armored against it.

"It was either that or Phlegma Spoil and I thought I'd be nice," he says, folding his arms over his gray t-shirt clad chest.

"Being nice would be leaving my profile alone, jerkface."

"Read on, it gets much better."

With a feeling of dread settling into my stomach, I read over my status. "Gemma Nose Doyle is standing over a tied-up 60 year old naked man, wearing nothing but Wellingtons and a feather boa with riding crop at the ready. Charming, Kartik, really."

He smiles his most attractive smile. "I knew you would appreciate -,"

"Shut up," I say, fixing my status to read 'is now single and looking for a boyfriend that doesn't ruin her life'.

"Gemma, that's not funny," he says, reading over my shoulder.

"You wrote that my religious views are Satanism, but only on Sundays, and that every other day of the week I am Russian Orthodox."

"I did."

"I must really be soul searching then. As well as boyfriend searching, because you're a disgrace."

"Everything's a disgrace to you. Satanist."

"Are you drunk?"

"Minimally."

"My website is hohohofoshoshosho dot com. Kartik, what is this madness?"

He rests his chin on my shoulder. "It gets better, you know."

"Activities: riding my boyfriend's fine arse. Interests: riding my boyfriend's fine arse, bubblegum, orgies, all things nylon. Favorite Music: hot jams and Three Six Mafia. I also enjoy listening to gospel music, but not on Sundays. Favorite TV Shows: Real Sex, Roseanne, Footballers' Wives, Blue's Clues. Favorite Movies: I only watch previews and the movie trivia. Favorite Books: Birdwatcher's guides and various Sudoku books. Favorite Quotes: "I like big butts and I cannot lie." About Me… Kartik, I hate you."

He squeezes my sides and bites my earlobe playfully. "Read it, I forgot what I wrote," he says into my neck. I sigh heavily.

"About Me: I am a ginger kid. Fear me."

Kartik bursts out laughing. "Oh man, I'm clever when I drink!" I elbow him in the stomach. "Oh come off it, Ammeg! You can fix it in five minutes."

"The damage has been done, dear Kitrak."

He presses his hips into me and kisses my cheek sloppily. "Well then fix it quick and we'll have a romp and all will be well."

I glare at him, wondering how he only thinks of sex at the worst possible times. He notices my wrath.

"Gem, listen, I know you're upset. I give you full permission to beat me with your riding crop," he says, faking seriousness.

"No, because that would be a treat."

**Little does she know, Kartik also created a group called "If 237 people join this group, Kartik will put down the guitar and play with his girlfriend instead."**

**Such a charming boy. Still the man of my dreams!**

**Here's to cheap margarita mix and one month left until I move in to my on-campus apartment,  
LunaEquus**

**(It's about time for school again, my inspiration for this fic has been running dry)**


	8. He Looks Fabulous

**One more funny drunk one (because I had it laying around and wanted to post it already) and THEN I promise some serious, romantic Kartik. Trust me, he is! The 21st century and college doesn't change that. Enjoy!**

"Now _this _is the way to study!" Kartik exclaims, settling himself comfortably against the pillows on my bed. "Jack and cokes, TV, and no pants – an inspiring setting with which I can expand my mind with knowledge and put it good use like the scholar I am."

I raise my eyebrows. "Is that the bull you fed to your parents?"

"Yes. They called ten minutes ago. I told them I was at a review session and that people were glaring at me for talking." He holds up a finger. "But little did they know those voices in the background were actually Frylock, Shake, and Meatwad."

"And if only your parents knew you were in my room in your underwear," I say, laughing.

Kartik shrugs and flashes me an impish grin. "Everything's more fun in your underwear. Besides, they wouldn't care. They know we get freaky from time to time."

"Oh gross!" I cover my face. "Your parents _know_?!"

"Yeah. They gave me money for condoms."

"My parents still think I'm a virgin!" I shriek. I uncover my face. "Wait, how much did they give you?"

"50 bucks."

"So why don't we have 50 dollars worth of condoms?"

"I bought a video game."

I glare at him. "Nice to see your priorities," I say sarcastically.

"Hey," he says, pointing at me. "If you would cooperate and let me do both at the same time, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"Sorry darling, but watching you shred on a plastic guitar is not a turn on."

Kartik grins. "You're lying, Gemma. You dirty little liar, you!"

I pout and sit across from him. "Honestly Kartik, when was the last time we were romantic about it? It's gotten to be so casual."

His expression changes. "I think it's romantic that it has gotten so casual. It just proves how comfortable we are together." He lays his head in my lap. His back is warm against my bare legs. I comb my fingers through his hair slowly.

"Yes, but there's no romance involved! No mystery, just routine. Rather…boring."

His shoulders tense like they do when he's angry. "You're not happy with our sex life?" He asks in a clipped voice.

"No! It's not that I'm unhappy," I say quickly. "I just want…more. Candles, rose petals, red wine, that sort of thing."

"And lacey lingerie?" Kartik asks, his muscles relaxing.

"Of course," I reply.

He falls silent and closes his eyes. "I'll arrange something," he says. "You deserve it."

"Really?"

He opens his eyes and gives me a warm smile. "Of course. I'd have done it sooner, but it's rather hard to be romantic while trying to fit in a quick romp before your roommate gets back. But hey, it's summer soon. We're still going away somewhere together right?"

I shimmy down to lay next to Kartik. He wraps his arms around my waist. "Yes. Just the two of us," I say.

"Let's go to Amsterdam," Kartik suggests.

"NO! You made me watch Hostel. I won't go there."

"But I want some Vandersexx, Gemma!"

"The only Vandersexx you're getting is from me. I'll beat you with my riding crop."

Kartik laughs. "Ah, vanderful!"

"Lame," I say, looking for the TV remote. "What's on after AquaTeen?"

"Robot Chicken."

"Okay," I say, abandoning my search for the remote. I sit at my desk and take a sip of my jack and coke. "Eugh." I make a face. "Kartik, you always put too much whiskey in."

Kartik laughs sinisterly from my bed. "It's because I like my ladies loose," he says dramatically. I roll my eyes.

"You're such a dork."

"You love every minute of my dorkdom."

"I do."

"Gem?"

"Yes, Tikitikitiki?"

"I am not studying. And neither are you. And what the hell did you just call me?"

I laugh, feeling the effect of the whiskey reaching my head. "Rikki Tikki Tavi…was a mongoose…in a bungalow," I sing, leaning back in my chair.

"Crazy drunk," he says, shaking his head.

"I'm not drunk yet," I insist truthfully. I hop off my chair and crawl into Kartik's lap, reaching my arm around his neck and breathing in his musky scent with a sigh. "You're wonderful," I say.

He kisses my cheek. "Let's have a toast, shall we?" He holds up his cup to mine. "Here's to a nearly completed year of college, and to Felicity sleeping with a different guy almost every night so that we have the room to ourselves."

"Here's to learning how to deal with small beds and small showers and Ann's snoring from the next room," I say.

"Cheers." We drink deeply and I shake my head from the force of the whiskey.

"So what are we going to do tonight? Ann and Fee are going to be back soon."

Kartik looks at the ceiling as if it will give him an idea. "Gemma, I have an idea!"

* * *

"Sobe NoFears?"

"Check."

"Rum?"

"Check."

"Fiery Habanero Doritos?"

"Yes, check. We have everything Kartik. Now put the movie in and sit down."

"Okay guys, my roommates and I have decided that this is hands down the best drinking game," he says, fiddling with the DVD player.

"Well what is it?" Felicity asks impatiently.

"May I present," Kartik says dramatically as the title menu appears on screen. "The Lord of the Rings drinking game." He gestures to the TV. "_Extended Edition_."

"Oh God," Felicity moans. "I absolutely _detest _this movie."

Kartik ignores her. "My roommate should be here shortly. I suppose he might be able to change Felicity's mind," he says winking at me. I smile in agreement. Kartik's roommate Jonathan is undeniably hot, but a terrible womanizer.

"Yes Fee, you'll like Jon. He's definitely your type," I say, opening my NoFear.

"What about me?" Ann asks from her diminutive spot on the floor next to Fee's chair.

"Sorry Ann, my brother's not here."

"I have other love interests!" she says shrilly.

"Drink up, darling, it's going to be a long night," I say. I add a considerable amount of rum to everyone's energy drink. A complicated knock thunders on the door.

"I'll get it!" Fee says excitedly. She pauses at the door to fluff her hair. I roll my eyes and then fix them on Kartik's butt as he adjusts the TV setting.

The door opens and Kartik's hot, but off-limits roommate crashes through the door right past Felicity, who glowers at being ignored.

"DUDE!" Jon yells at Kartik, enveloping him in a bear hug.

"_Somebody's _already drunk," Ann says huffily. It tortures her to be around such hot guys, especially since none of them ever pay attention to her when Felicity's around.

"Yes," I say. "It's probably me. I am a teeny bit drunk."

"Just a bit?"

"Indeed. JONATHAN," I say loudly.

"GEMMA," he says just as loudly.

"Meet Ann. She has a loverly voice."

"Loverly?"

"Go easy on her," I say. Jon takes the bait and settles himself next to Ann, draping his arm loosely over her shoulders. Still at the door, Felicity is seething mad. She gets this way often, so I disregard it.

"Rule time," Kartik says. "Jon, care to help me explain?"

"There are rules," Jon says. He blows a kiss to Felicity, who tosses her hair over her shoulder.

Kartik blinks. "Yes. There is a list of things that will happen throughout the movie. Each time one of them happens, we all have to take a sip."

"Great," I say. This particular movie has to be about a million hours long, not to mention, rather boring aside from the hot elf. I tried to get Kartik to dress up as him for Halloween last year, but he wouldn't do the blonde wig.

Kartik bursts out laughing. "Okay," he says, trying to regain composure. "Here is the list. We have to drink whenever someone in the movie eats or drinks, whenever a hobbit bitches about being hungry…"

"Whenever the scene gets a little gay," Jonathan interjects.

"Yes. Whenever someone draws a sword." Kartik breaks into laughter again. "Just wait until Helm's Deep!"

"What else?" Jon muses.

"Whenever Legolas looks fabulous!" Kartik says, laughing madly.

"Whenever they mention the One Ring," Jon says. "We're missing something, aren't we?"

"Um, let's stop it at that," I cut in. "Otherwise we might be dead at the end of the movie."

_Three hours later._

"He looks fabulous," Kartik mumbles.

"Christ," I whisper, trying to lift the drink to my mouth. My arm feels at least one hundred pounds heavier than I am used to.

"Ann? ANN?" Jon is screeching. "Oh God, I think she's dead!"

"Idiot, I was sleeping!" Ann's glazed eyes glare at Jon. Somewhere in my brain I am proud of her for her drunken venom.

"You tell him, Annie!"

"If my name was Treebeard, I think I'd kill myself," Kartik says, his voice implying that he's had a revelation.

Felicity's head snaps up at this. She points at Kartik. "You _can't _kill yourself! That's _bad. _That's _unhealthy_!" She lets her head fall back into place.

Kartik stares. "So are herpes," he says, confused.

"Kartik!" I exclaim, giggling. "You're so mean."

"But…herpes are worse than…she shouldn't be talking!"

"Neither should you," I say to him, patting his head awkwardly.

"The scene's gay! The scene is quite a bit fruity at the moment," Jon says. "Why do they need to ride the same horse?" he whines to Kartik. "Bro, I love you and all, but I'd never ride a horse with you. I mean, that's just gay."

"It is gay," Kartik says delicately. "Gemma," he whispers. "I've never ridden a horse with another guy, have I?"

"No," I whisper back, giggling madly. He lets out a sigh of relief.

"I was a bit worried," he says. "I mean, I haven't even ridden a horse with _you_."

"But you've ridden my horse," I say, draining my drink. "Bareback."

"So?"

"He's a boy horse. Isn't that gay too?"

Kartik's face pales. I burst out laughing.

**Yes, Kartik was implying that Felicity has herpes. Not that she does, of course. He's just being...mean.**

**Alright, next one will be normal Kartik and Gemma! I promise! **

**Oh, and the drinking game? Totally real! "He looks fabulous!" groans**

**Is trying to picture Kartik dressed as Legolas sans wig and is drooling,  
LunaEquus**

**Oi! I got Guitar Hero Rock the 80s! Libba Bray has it too! She said I rule because I have unicorn stickers on my guitar! SHE said I rule! Libba Bray thinks I'm cool! spazzes fangirlishly**


	9. I'm not wearing any

**Completely sober Karma action. I held good on my end of the bargain! Enjoy!**

"We're leaving in five minutes, whether you're ready or not!"

"I'm coming, Dad!" I secure my last earring, smooth down my dress, and check to make sure I'm presentable. There is something about formal affairs that turns me into a complete mess, and this is no exception. Tom has been invited to a charity banquet for the hospital he interns at, with the invitation extended to his immediate family. I usually find these things incredibly boring, but lucky for me, Kartik's brother Amar is a surgeon at the same hospital, which means Kartik will be there too.

A last look into the mirror reveals no blatant errors in my appearance. I look decent enough, in a simple black dress with a flared skirt (can't go wrong with a LBD), silver kitten-heeled shoes (less heel to trip over), and the pearls given to me at graduation. If anything, I look classic, which goes to show that a little eyeliner can make any girl look like Brigitte Bardot, even though I'm compared to her on a regular basis anyway. Can't imagine why; I'm no blonde bombshell, though Kartik once suggested I try out the look something. Perish the thought!

"You look lovely, precious," my father greets me as I carefully walk the last few steps from upstairs.

"Thanks, Dad," I say sheepishly. My mother sweeps into the living room, fussing over a nervous Tom.

"Mom, please, I think I can handle my bowtie."

"You have it tied all wrong," she says calmly. "Let me fix it for you!" After a stern look from our father, Tom relents.

"Thank you," he grumbles. "Can we go now?"

Once in the car, I fiddle with my handbag, bored already. "Are we going to be sitting with Kartik's family?" I ask, just to be certain.

My father eyes me in the rearview mirror. "Yes, but don't take that as an excuse to go goofing off with Kartik. I expect you to be on your best behavior."

"Yes Father," I say formally.

Tom leans over. "Yes Gemma, don't make use of the utility closets. There are surveillance cameras everywhere," he whispers. Unlike our parents, Tom knows that Kartik and I have done the deed, and unfortunately he knows by accidentally catching us (almost) in the act.

"Tom!" I hiss, elbowing him in the ribs. "Shut up!"

"No fighting," my mother sings out. "Honestly, you two are both adults."

We drive the rest of the way in near silence, broken only by Tom's impatient sighs and our dad's off-key singing. I'm antsy in the backseat, anxious to get to the banquet, down a glass of champagne, and find a surveillance-free area to snog the hell out of Kartik. No need to sit through speeches and other formalities, and no need to watch Tom kiss up to his superiors.

We arrive soon enough and I scope out the hordes of fashionably dressed patrons and hospital personnel for any hint of the dark-haired sex god whose presence promises to make any boring occasion worthy of committing to memory. I spy him by the coat check area, glowering as his mother fusses over his remarkably tamed hair. I happen to know that Mrs. Mehra wanted a daughter after Amar and was mildly disappointed to find that Kartik was yet another son.

I also know that Mrs. Mehra encouraged Kartik to play dress-up in her clothes when he was a child, and I have seen the pictures to prove it.

His face lights up when he catches my eye. As my parents are busy chumming it up with old friends, I steal away without them noticing.

"You look beautiful," Kartik says, brushing off his mother and brandishing a kiss on my cheek.

I shrug, blushing. "Thank you." I wrap my arm around his neck. "You look quite ravishing," I whisper into his ear. He pinches my side playfully, though I know it is only a substitute from grabbing my bum. He'd never dare do that in front of his mother.

"Hello Gemma," his mother says warmly, embracing me as if I was her daughter.

"Hi Mrs. Mehra," I say shyly. Kartik's mother is a very kind woman, but she is also a bit intimidating. This feeling is intensified due to the fact that she is my boyfriend's mother. Kartik's father, however, is exactly like a big teddy bear.

"I'm going to go find your father and Amar," she says to Kartik. "I'll see you both in a bit.

Kartik exhales loudly when she leaves. "Good _God_," he says. "All afternoon. _All_ afternoon, just nitpicking over every aspect of my appearance. A hair out of place. A wrinkle in my shirt. Honestly, you pay less attention to your horse at a show."

"Cut her some slack," I say, laughing. "She wanted a girl and she got you. I mean, you are quite pretty, but not daughter material."

"Mmm." He rolls his eyes. "Lucky for you, I'm a male."

"Indeed."

He throws me a naughty look, eyes twinkling in the dim light. A light, bubbly feeling forms in my chest and I haven't even had champagne yet. Which reminds me…

By luck or chance or something, a waiter threads throughout the arriving guest with a tray of champagne flutes. Kartik takes two from him and hands one to me.

"Cheers," he says, holding the flute up to mine. I am about to take a much needed sip, but the glass is whisked out of my hand before I can touch it to my lips.

"She's underage," my father says to the waiter. He takes Kartik's drink as well. "They both are."

My cheeks burn hotly with embarrassment. "Dad!" I hiss through my teeth. "Why did you do that?" Kartik's eyes are wide and his hand still assumes the position of holding his glass.

My father has no shame. "Water's better! Juice even! I'll get you kids some Shirley Temples." He walks in the general direction of the bar with determination.

"Gemma."

"Yes, Kartik?" I'm mortified.

"Your father is a nice chap and all, but I think he's a bit mad."

"I agree. I think it's safe to assume I was adopted."

"Just know that I _will not _be touching a Shirley Temple. Ever. At least not in public."

"I'll drink yours," I offer, taking his hand. "Let's go sit down and get this over with.

The next few hours pass in relative boredom. Kartik and I have been allowed to sit next to each other, but as our parents are on either side of us, whispering and under-the-table groping are strictly off-limits. We actually have to pay attention as various people of importance speak about the wonders of modern technology in the hospital and how it's made possible by "patrons like you".

Thankfully most of dinner allows for talking, though our conversations are very much censored for the sake of our potential audience. But during coffee and dessert, we are shushed into silence because the board of trustees find themselves too good to eat key lime pie like the rest of us. I content myself with sculpting the too-thick whipped cream into the head of a monkey, which Kartik promptly swipes off my plate with his fork and eats.

I kick him playfully under the table, which leads to a vicious and painful game of footsie (not romantic when wearing heels and dress shoes), which earns us deathly glares from our parents. We fall silent with guilty smiles.

A few minutes later, Kartik leans over. "Do you have a pen?" he whispers. Wordlessly, I hand him the pen from my purse. "Thank you," he mouths. He scribbles something onto a napkin, folds it, and pushes it over to me.

_What color knickers are you wearing?_

I choke back laughter, crumpling the note into my fist. My father shoots me a warning look. I look at Kartik; he is sipping from his water glass innocently, acting as if he never asked me a dirty question in the middle of a formal event while flanked by parents. I gesture for my pen back, determined to have the upper hand.

_I'm not wearing any._

This time it is his turn to choke, literally. His eyes water as he coughs from his drink going down the wrong way. Still coughing, he quickly exits the room to recover in peace and perhaps ponder what I wrote in the note. It is a lie, but surely one that will benefit his evening with fantasies that will, in turn, benefit me.

Minutes pass and Kartik still does not return. Mrs. Mehra leans over to me. "Would you mind seeing if he's alright, Gemma? I don't want him to miss Amar's speech."

"Sure," I say, standing up to leave. I find him not too far from the banquet area, in the private sitting area near the restrooms. He lounges serenely in a wicker chair, happily eating after-dinner mints from the crystal bowl on the side table.

"Took you long enough," he muses.

"Your mother was worried about you. She doesn't want you to miss Amar's speech."

Kartik scoffs and reaches for another handful of pastel mints. "As if I don't hear Amar talk enough as it is." He looks at me, balancing awkwardly in front of him, and opens his arms. "Come."

I accept his invitation and curl into his lap, glancing around warily to make certain we're alone. He shifts his weight underneath me and rests his hand on my upper thigh, softly stroking the material of my dress with his thumb. I spread my fingers through his hair, pulling it back from his face, and place my lips against his.

His other hand reaches to the back of my neck and he coaxes my lips apart with his tongue, slipping it inside to explore my mouth and inviting me to explore his. His mouth tastes sweet and minty and delicious; I find myself salivating a bit too much for comfort. I pull away, my hand flying to my mouth.

Kartik laughs and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Do I taste that good?"

"It's those bloody mints," I grumble, reaching for a tissue from the lacquered box on the table.

He pulls me against him and wraps his arms around me. "Gemma," he murmurs, nuzzling my neck. "I love everything about you…" He kisses my neck in such a fashion that I find my body temperature rising. "…even your drooling."

I'm touched, really, despite the jibe. I lift a hand to stroke his cheek. "At least I'm only drooling over you."

"Mmm." He turns my face to his so that we can have another go at kissing. This time it is considerably less messy, and it quickly escalates to snogging proportions that should not be executed in public places.

Kartik slips his hand under my skirt and suddenly pulls his face away from me. "You lied, Gemma!"

"W-what?" I asked, bewildered. He doesn't look angry, per se, but I have no idea what he is accusing me of. The answer comes soon enough.

He snaps the waistband of my underwear. "You said you weren't wearing any!"

"Oh," I say, feeling stupid. "So I did."

"So what color are they?"

I slid off of him and lean forward to whisper in his ear as sexily as I can. "_Black_."

A visual shudder passes through him. Satisfied, I turn to return to the banquet.

"Hey Gemma?" I stop and look back. He remains in the chair with an eager, anxious look on his face. "What are you doing after this?"

I give him a wink. "Hopefully you."

**Yay for saucy Gemma! See? Kartik can still be hot and lovable even when completely sober. Silly Mr. Doyle, taking their champagne away. Tsk.**

**Please review!**

**Has 4 philosophy classes tomorrow,  
LunaEquus**

**What else would you guys like to see happen in Spence U? Let me know and maybe I'll use your idea! **


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